13 Sep Our Long Awaited Day!
Each story however starts with the fact that my husband and I tried for years to conceive and after two years of trying we finally saw that positive on the pregnancy test and had it confirmed with the doctor. We shouted from the rooftops to let EVERYONE know we were finally pregnant. We had two ultrasounds fairly early and on. The first one we saw the baby’s heartbeat and they scheduled us to come back two weeks from then for our second ultrasound so we could hear the heart beat since our OB at the time knew the struggle we had getting pregnant. When we went back for the second ultrasound there was no heartbeat and there had been no growth. The last time we saw the baby via ultrasound two weeks earlier was most likely baby’s last living day. We were devastated to say the least. What was even more dreadful was telling everyone over and over and over and then to make matters worse, my body didn’t miscarry on it’s own and I had to have a D&C. All I could think was that I was making a mistake, maybe baby was alive and they got the ultrasound wrong and if I just waited it would be ok. Long story short baby was gone and I had the D&C and struggled emotionally for a long time, and still do to this day with the loss of our sweet first baby.
Four years after the miscarriage we had totally given up that we could have children and we just continued on with life. We were living in a different state at this time and sharing a car and purchasing a house. I picked my husband up from work and he got a call while we were driving home and it was from the bank saying we were approved for a loan for the house we wanted. No big deal, we had bought a house before and been approved for loans but I broke down crying while we were driving. My husband asked what was wrong and I said I didn’t know I was just so happy that these people that didn’t even know us would be so generous enough to give us money to buy a house! I calmed down and kept driving until we hit a red light and started crying again because the light was red. My husband insisted I stop for a pregnancy test and I thought he was cruel for doing so because I was sick of wasting money and sick of seeing negative. We stopped and he went in and bought the tests. While I was cooking dinner that evening after we got home, I stepped away to take a test just to be done with it, only I never went back to the kitchen. My husband found me in a puddle of tears in the bathroom floor holding the test. He knew this was a different cry than my other cries with pregnancy tests and he looked at the results and burst into tears – pregnant! We shouted from the rooftop again – well my husband did, I cried the rest of the evening.
It was a rough first trimester and I lost roughly 10 pounds. Once I could eat again I gained it all back plus more and fast! I was told in the middle of my first trimester I couldn’t gain anymore weight to which I laughed and went home and ate an entire box of girl scout cookies (probably not the best idea). I signed up for The Bradley Method class and loved it so much I wanted to teach it as well. However I was a terrible student. I thought I knew what I wanted and understood the class but I never did the additional reading or the exercises we were assigned to do at home. I was nearing 42 weeks and my OB scheduled an induction which I had already planned to not show up for because I refused to be induced. The fear had already sunk in though and I was stressed and trying everything to “induce” labor at home, including eating an entire pineapple which I DO NOT recommend, my tastebuds are still messed up from that. I stressed so much about the induction that when contractions started everything I learned went out the window. My husband tried to calm me down and tell me we needed to relax and stay home but I wouldn’t have it. I looked him straight in the eye and said “how do you know what we need to do? Are you in labor? Are you having a baby? Have you ever had a baby before? Then we are going to the hospital!” I should have listened to him. We were there for three days, THREE DAYS!
I labored terribly not relaxing, no additional support other than my poor exhausted husband who I didn’t even let take a nap because I was so scared. I have no doubt being that fearful that I prevented my labor from progressing. I did have one amazing nurse that spent as much time with me as possible but obviously she couldn’t stay with me the whole time. On day two I caved to my first intervention – breaking my waters. The procedure itself wasn’t terrible but the aftermath was. Contractions got worse and baby pooped so I had meconium staining which meant NICU would be the first ones to hold my baby once he arrived. The morning of day three I was asked if they could place in internal monitor to check baby’s heart rate and an additional monitor to check the strength of my contractions because maybe my contractions aren’t strong enough to push baby down. I agreed but only because I didn’t realize what I was agreeing to. I didn’t realize to insert an internal monitor I would need a catheter or that it would be screwed into the top of my unborn baby’s head! I actually never found out how it worked until 3 years later!
As we entered day three and I had seen all but two OB’s in my practice out of the 7, I had scare tactics used in convincing me to have an epidural and Pitocin. I was devastated, exhausted, disappointed, and felt like a failure. The doctor had basically said, “well this baby isn’t coming so it’s probable you will end up with a cesarean” – the absolute last thing I wanted to have done! She said his shoulders must be too big to fit through the birth canal so I could either get the epidural and let them take over with Pitocin to deliver baby or agree to a c-section! Looking back there’s no way that baby had wide shoulders too large to fit through MY birth canal! My husband nor myself can keep a bag on our shoulders because they are too narrow! I remember the anesthesiologist telling me, “no matter what you do don’t move!” When I asked what I should do if I had a contraction he laughed and said “just stay really still because it could be dangerous if you don’t”. Wow!
After the epidural I fell asleep and was awoken by the nurse and a room full of people being told it was time to push – how they knew is beyond me, I’m thinking they must have checked me while I was asleep and while my husband was also passed out (he sleeps through any and everything). I remember being excited, but also wanting to be left alone to keep sleeping because I was so tired and hot, sweaty hot. Apparently I spiked a fever which I thank all the interventions for. I remember them getting me in a little bit of an upright position and me asking the doctor how much longer until I was finished because I just wanted to go back to sleep. (How sad I’d waited 6 years to meet my first born and thanks to the meds I just wanted to sleep.) She said about a couple of hours or more. I laughed and said “oh I don’t think so!”. I’m not only very competitive but also was thinking after three days there’s no way I’m waiting another few hours. I pushed with everything I had in me and because of the epidural I had no idea how hard I was pushing.
Baby boy was born healthy in just about an hour. The NICU team took him and cleaned out his mouth with a bulb syringe until he cried and then they handed him to me. I remember not really feeling anything but desperately wanting to sleep. My husband was crying and I was just there. I’m usually a very emotional person and I expected to be hot mess the first time I held and saw my son but I was just ready to go back to sleep. I still carry the guilt of his birth with me almost 6 years later.